Here,
then, poor Rip was brought to a stand. He again called and whistled
after his dog; he was only answered by the cawing of a flock of idle
crows, sporting high in air about a dry tree that overhung a sunny
precipice; and who, secure in their elevation, seemed to look down and
scoff at the poor man's perplexities. What was to be done? the morning
was passing away, and Rip felt famished for want of his breakfast.
He grieved to give up his dog and gun; he dreaded to meet his wife;
but it would not do to starve among the mountains. He shook his
head, shouldered the rusty firelock, and, with a heart full of trouble
and anxiety, turned his steps homeward.
As he approached the village he met a number of people, but none
whom he knew, which somewhat surprised him, for he had thought himself
acquainted with every one in the country round. Their dress, too,
was of a different fashion from that to which he was accustomed.
They all stared at him with equal marks of surprise, and whenever they
cast their eyes upon him, invariably stroked their chins. The constant
recurrence of this gesture induced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same,
when, to his astonishment, he found his beard had grown a foot long!
He had now entered the skirts of the village.
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